Thirst of Vengeance
by Dust Particle
Summary: Just when Remus thinks he has escaped the clutches of death, he falls into the hands of Severus. slash fic
1. Prologue

DISCLAIMER: not mine.

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**PROLOGUE**

They're all over his body, they're all over his face. There are scratches, cuts, slashes deep into the skin revealing open flesh that glistens an incandescent blue under craning necks of streetlights, where he limps.

He struggles with his feet, slowly dragging him along the peeling painted fences. Every breath feels like he has swallowed sandpaper and it grinds against his throat. He can smell everything. From that rusty scent plastered like bandages around him to that unpleasant waft of odour emitting from every direction in this godforsaken place.

He casts cautious glances behind him but no one is there. No one is following him, just the shadow of his sagging form and the remains of a chip packet stealing across the gravel and tar, forgotten and free.

He doesn't know where he's going. He doesn't care where he's going. He just needs to get away. And away he goes.

By now he is completely exhausted and drained that it is not until it seems like the rubble of the pathway is hovering an inch away from his face when he finally feels the blow to his kneecaps as it brings him crashing down and he screams out harsh and dry.

The last thing he sees while that dark, thick puddle presses warmly against his temple are two pairs of boots barely touching his nose before he passes out.

They have found him.

The other man sees this silhouette of a large lump falling to the ground and when he nudges it over with his foot he can barely recognise the face of that someone covered in brutal wounds and drenched in the stench of blood and dirt. It's disgusting and he wonders if he should leave it there.

Nevertheless he grabs into the pockets of his robes, pulls out his wand and levitates the limp form into his house, identical to the ones along the street.

Past the bleak scabs of yellow wallpaper he carries this bundle of wreck into the guest room and lays him down on top of the covers, for it isn't going anywhere on his own bed he barely even sleeps in.

"Yes Master Snape?" His houself asks while she wipes her bony hands on her tea towel of a dress.

"Peaches, I need you to clean this man up before I tend to his wounds, can you do that for me?" Snape says before she nods and he strides out of the room.

The grandfather clock ticks one in the morning as he paces around the creaking floorboards fumbling in the cabinets, the drawers and rummaging through the shelves until he finds the vial he is looking for.

From the gap between the door and the frame, he can already see the clean naked torso glowing underneath the wall lamps and the tuft of smooth brown hair obscuring the man's face.

He walks in, cautious and anxious and dismisses Peaches.

The man looks worse, for some odd reason. It is probably because instead of the red stained fabric covering him, the angry slashes that have hacked through it and deep into the throbbing layers of his skin over and over again are now more defined. Or probably it is also because he realises exactly who this man is.

Unable to tear his eyes away from this bad attempt of a jigsaw puzzle he pops the cork out of the vial of purplish swirling liquid determined to somehow rearrange it back.

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I'm not sure if the rating will change. It could later so yeah. Thanks for reading!


	2. Saints and Sinners

DISCLAIMER: yea yea, not mine.

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**Saints and Sinners **

A few days, Severus waits. Through the dirty window, the ragged curtains pushed aside, he watches the orange glow of the sun creeping behind the cluttered rooftops. It seems like he has been standing there for hours, fixated at the scene slowly unfolding in front of him.

There is a light knock on the door that awakes him out of his reverie and he turns to see Peaches holding a tray of sandwiches and a jug of water.

"Is he awake?" Snape asks.

"Yes sir, just," she replies.

"Well what are you waiting for? Take it to him then."

He follows her into the guest room and he sees the man half sitting up, hands sprawled and searching his clean chest, stomach, neck and face, curiosity and confusion shining in his very eyes.

"I managed to seal the cuts," Snape says as the other man jolts and looks towards the door where he is leaning, "but I gather they aren't normal cuts. See, I can't seem to completely erase some of the scars they've left."

The man is shocked for a while, and forgets how to use his mouth for he is utterly speechless. His eyes dart around the room, taking in his surroundings as he realizes that he is nowhere near that place that sends chills in every nerve of his spine and shivers on every hair on his back. He also realizes that they have not found him, most unexpectedly he is in the same room as Severus Snape instead.

At first he doesn't know what to think. Snape of all people. This be some sort of a joke really. Should he be screaming and trying to get away before he is stabbed for making the man's childhood a living hell or before he is offered to the death eaters? Surely, Remus thinks, these are not this man's intentions and he is ashamed of thinking so; therefore he only lets out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you," these words come out as a painful croak and it's all he says before Snape quickly snatches the jug of water from the tray, pours some into a glass and hands it over.

"Drink this. If you need anything, just call on Peaches," they both glance towards the houself. "Peaches get your arse over here and give him the bloody sandwiches. You're welcome to use the bathroom, actually it's advised if you do so. It's out that door and to the right. I'll leave you to it then."

She hurries over, the tray rattles in her grasp and he leaves them. He marches down the stairs and makes himself a cup of coffee minus the milk and plus the extra sugar.

He doesn't really like this man. In fact he hates him and he wonders why the hell he didn't just leave him to rot outside his front garden. There was a time when this man almost killed him and he has never forgiven nor has he forgotten.

Holding onto grudges is like a life line to him, he can't ever let go. But somehow at that moment when his pale hands smoothed over the deep trenches of brutal cuts, when he waited for the edges to seal together and washed his blood-stained hands under the cold tap, he did.

Speaking of cuts, where had they come from? He muses over this question which has long troubled him since. He is almost confident it involves the work of the full moon, but what makes his breath hitch when vivid memories from his past haunts the recesses of his mind, is exactly how bad the transformations have become.

He would definitely inquire later.

...

The warm water does not hide his skinny frame and bony limbs when he observes his body from the surface. He rests his head, against the edge of the tub and stares at the ceiling where white paint peels and point towards him.

_He is screaming. It hurts. It hurts so fucking much! His body curves inwards, making sounds like cracking knuckles when it does. He is sure his head is splitting open. It throbs agonizingly and he feels claws, his own, stabbing at it, forcing it together. _

_So much pain he tries to hang on to something. Anything! He grabs onto something cold. Metal bars cage him in. He wants to get out. He wants out, he is going to explode... _

_"Hungry boy?" The voice thunders in his ears but he cannot comprehend. Then there is laughter, so much laughter. Anger boils inside him._

_"No! No! Please! No!"_

"Lupin!" Snape yells, plunging his hands in the water.

He doesn't know how long he has been holding his breath until he is yanked out of the water spitting and choking and sputtering incoherent phrases.

"I didn't! I didn't! I can't have! I'm not-no!"

"For God's sake Lupin, get yourself together!" Snape is furious, and he doesn't care that he is shaking the naked man, demanding an answer. "What the hell did you think you were doing?"

Remus is still trembling. What had just happened? What the hell was that all about? "Sev-severus… I think- I can't… I-"

"You're not making any sense Lupin," Snape huffs as he pulls himself off the floor.

"I'm sorry... I-I fell asleep."

"Really now?" He doesn't seem convinced. After all he is the wizarding world's biggest liar. It's his job. "Do that again and I will drown you myself!"

Snape breathes deeply letting his temper subside and calls on Peaches for a fresh towel and a pile of clothes.

...

Lupin had tried to tell him something and it bothers him that he never found out. He is deep in thought that he burns the pasta and tells Peaches to cook anything edible she finds in the kitchen. They have sausages for dinner.

They exchange a few words and zero insults. It seems the Lupin isn't ready for the interrogation Snape is reciting in his mind like a voice recorder on repeat. He never speaks when necessary and surprisingly enough Snape finds that he is the one to start all the small talk. Not to mention that he almost strangles his own throat after offering Lupin an extended stay in his home for the meantime. Maybe it is because he is a nosy prick and wants to know why the werewolf was as-good-as-dead lying at the foot of his house the other night, or maybe it is because Lupin is just so damn pitiful and can't even look after his own bloody arse. He isn't even full, yet he has lost his appetite.

"Thank you again Severus." It is the first time Remus smiles.

...

He is slumping on his moth eaten sofa; his novel lays abandoned on his lap as he observes the dancing flames on the hearth, flickering and spitting sparks.

"Saint Snape." He tries the name on his lips. "Cannibalized- no, canonized? For giving homes to the homeless," he mutters, rolling his eyes.

There is a crack in the air; a popping sound that distracts him. "Master Snape!"

"What is it?" startled, he snaps and leaps up to his full height.

"The sir! He is having very bad dreams, he is!"

Immediately he makes his way to Lupin, ascending the stairs by twos. The hinges squeak when he throws the door wide open and he sees the man tangled in the blankets, thrashing about and whimpering.

"No! No! I didn't- that's not- No!" he sobs.

"Lupin… Lupin," he nudges the man's shoulders. "It's just a dream Lupin… Lupin wake up."

When Remus does, he is sweating profusely and he clutches nervously at the bed sheets making sure it is real and that he is not dreaming anymore.

"Severus- I can't remember."

Snape isn't expecting this.

"I beg your pardon?"

"It- It was the full moon and then- I think... God help me, I can't have-" Can't have what? Snape's pestering mind thinks and he knows Remus' has done something and he can't begin to imagine what that is. So he takes a different approach.

"Your transformations, have they been this bad before?"

"No- No it's not that, you don't understand!" Remus stares at him long and hard, multitude of thoughts running in chaos in his head.

Patience is a virtue Snape greatly lacks.

"What is it then?"

Remus throws the blanket aside and paces the square of the room with his head in his hands and Snape doesn't know what to do. Neither does Peaches, for she trembles in the corner of the room while her bulbous eyes dart to and from her master and the mad man. Remus is growing frantic and bites at his nails until Snape pulls them away, looming intimidatingly over him.

"Lupin, what exactly happened to you?"

The other man stays silent, lips shut tight. It is during a transformation, when time is robbed. He only remembers the slow torture of before and after. But it is different this time. It seems to be all coming back to him, in fragmented pieces, all too difficult to decipher.

"Peaches, leave us," Snape orders and as soon as she disappears he turns to Remus. "I can help you if you let me."

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TY :D


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